


When All is Said and Done

by sapphicwonder



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Emotional Hurt, F/F, Heavy Angst, Moicy, Morally Ambiguous Character, Unresolved Emotional Tension, do they make up? does moira cut it off after the end? its up to you!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 10:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16303136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphicwonder/pseuds/sapphicwonder
Summary: *to the tune of god is a woman djdjsjsjs*I wrote this while listening to "God is a Woman" by Ariana Grande so that's cool. Anyway enjoy this neat Moicy fic.





	When All is Said and Done

_It hadn’t started with feelings. The two doctors had been arguing over a scientific theory they had been discussing over drinks, and it escalated._

Angela grabbed Moira by her tie and pulled her close to her face. “Trust me, O’Deorain,” she whispered, her breath gently hitting the other woman’s face and eyes trailing to her lips. “When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to live without me.”

Moira licked her bottom lip, staring down at Angela from the hunched position she already had her in. “Well then, pet,” she said lowly. “Why don’t we see about that?”

Angela slammed her lips into hers, muffling the sound of surprise from the taller woman. She backed Moira against the wall and dragged her hands down the older woman’s sides, leaving them at her waist, gently digging her nails into her hips. Moira shivered.

Slender fingers buried themselves in blonde hair and kissed Angela with a ferocity she hadn’t known she possessed. She moved her hands down the other woman's sides, relishing in the shudder she got from her, before gripping onto her hips and flipping Angela against the wall. Moira grinned, lips leaving Angela’s heavenly mouth to her neck, suckling and nipping, finally finding the spot that makes the blonde woman release a moan.

She wrapped her hands around Angela’s thighs before lifting her up, the other woman’s legs immediately coming around her waist with a squeak. “How about it, angel?” The words were spoken breathily, hot against Angela’s neck. Angela could only nod, not trusting her mouth.

*****

Moira glided across the floor of the hall, an unimpressed look on her face. In all honesty, she’d prefer to be working. Mandatory for her to be here, however, so here she is. She finds her name card and seat quickly, if only so she doesn’t have to socialize. Her eyes unwillingly search out the one woman who commands her attention. She curses internally, because how can one woman make her so needy? But here she is, eyes dragging across from her seat to look for an angel. When she sees her, her breath is stolen.

When Angela walks, even off the battlefield, she’s graceful. Beautiful, poised, a smile on her face. Wearing a red dress with a modest slit up her thigh, hair pulled into a fancy ponytail. The red head quickly looks away, not wanting to be caught staring. She won’t be weakened by this woman. That goddess of a woman..

“Is this seat taken?” The soft accented voice is strong in the geneticists ears. With a bored look on her face so as to not give away her... _feelings_ , a disgusting thought, she gestures openly with her hand. Angela sits gracefully, one hand in her lap, another grasping a champagne flute.

“Enjoying the party?” Moira scoffed.

“Yes, I enjoy being surrounded by politicians I haven’t met and have no interest in meeting. I’d rather be working.” She dragged her nail in circles on the table cloth, eyes looking across the room- anywhere but Angela.

“Dance with me, Moira.” The red head snapped to attention, turning to Angela. Was she serious? There was no way.

“What an interesting suggestion. You’ll be disappointed, you see, because I don’t dance.” Angela smirked.

“Will you dance for me?” The blonde woman’s voice dropped a few octaves, she bit her lip. Moira felt a shiver go through her.

“Sorry, pet. I’m not going to dance. Not even for a pretty face like you.”

Angela pouted, it turned into a confident smile. She leaned over to Moira.

“What if I made it worth your while?”

The taller woman rolled her eyes. Angela truly never gave up.

“If I agree to dance, will you stop asking?”

A grin spread across the blonde woman’s face, and Moira snapped her neck to the right to hide the blush that she felt graze her cheeks at having made Angela smile. She cleared her throat and stood, extending her hand to the shorter woman.

“Shall we?”

A smaller hand entered hers and they approached the dance floor of the hall. She held Angela’s hand in hers and got into a traditional ballroom position, swaying with her.

“Is this what you wanted?”

A small twirl, a throw and return. Angela ended up with her back against Moira’s front, swaying. The Irish woman guided them again, twirling her outward before gently dipping her, before pulling her back up to sway gently.

A genuine smile graced Angela’s face. “I didn’t know you could dance!”

The older woman groaned. She knew she shouldn’t have done this. “Yes, well,” she struggled to find the words. “I do.”

“It’s not so bad, dancing with me?” The question was quiet, mumbled while Angela rested her head on Moira’s collarbone and they swayed.

Moira let one side of her mouth pull upwards. “No, pet. It’s not so bad, dancing with you.”

*****

Moira threw herself into her work. That blasted woman was all she could think about and it was consuming her. No more. It was supposed to be simple and fun and no strings attached- that’s what she told herself. She thought back to the first time. _“When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to live without me.”_

Well, congratulations Angela Ziegler. Successfully became the air that Moira breathes. And so, she must find different air. She isn’t going to let... _feelings_ cloud her judgement. She can’t. Her research, her advancements, everything is simply too important. It wasn’t like Angela has sought her out, anyway. It’s fine. They’re not in love or anything, they don’t need each other.

Moira held her jacket over her arm as she walked, it was too hot after all. She already began to take off her tie as she made it to her quarters inside the Overwatch Base in Zurich, ready to sleep (for a scientist with a horrid sleep schedule) and is greeted with a surprise when she swipes her card to open her door.

“Angela! In ainm Dé!”

“You haven’t spoken to me in days.” There was a furrow in her brows as she said it, a look of genuine confusion on her face.

“How did you even get into my room?”

“I took your spare key-card.”

Moira sighed. She fully entered the room and shut the door, putting her coat down. “Well? I’ve been busy, Angela. You’re not the center of my world. Get it together.”

It was cold, and what Moira wanted to tell her was _you make me feel and that scares me. You make me want something more._

She couldn’t do that, of course. Too many risks. So she masked her face into indifference and a raised eyebrow, crossing her arms.

Angela faltered. “I.. didn’t think I was your center. I just wanted to-“

“Do what, Angela? See how I’m doing? Check on my well being?” The geneticist sneered the words, striding closer to the blonde and grabbing her chin.

“I can live without you. Are you done with me yet?”

Angela looked into Moira’s eyes, searching for some answer. “No.” She said firmly.

“Leave my room, Angela. I’m tired.”

Head held high, Angela strode from the room with the grace of an angel, holding all of the things she knew Moira would come back for.

They didn’t talk for weeks after that.

*****

Moira is slightly drunk when she knocks on Angela’s door. She doesn’t know why she does, or when she got there, but all she remembers is taking her whiskey straight and two glasses later, she’s got courage.

Angela has a glass of wine in her hand when she opens the door. “Ye- Moira?”

A smirk crosses the fiery redheads lips. “The one and only, pet.”

“What do you want?” Angela is stubborn, hiding the hurt of an encounter weeks before.

“You.”

Angela grabs Moira’s tie and pulls her into her room, shutting the door quickly. Wine glass forgotten on a bookshelf as she buries her hands into the red locks of hair, moaning into the others mouth.

“I’ve missed this.” Angela breaths out near her ear.

“.. Likewise, doll.”

 _Let me worship you_ , Moira begs in her mind. Instead she leads Angela to the other woman’s bed and puts her in her lap, savoring the touch of the blonde woman.

Slender fingers toy with the tie of Angela’s bathrobe, another going to drag lightly against a pale thigh. Angela releases that breathy noise; a half-whine and hitch of the breath when she likes something Moira does.

Angela clutches Moira’s hair as she kisses the hollow of her throat, her collarbones, as she undoes her robe and kisses lower. _Mine_ , she thinks.

*****

She rolled her eyes when Reyes had suggested she come with him for an incident report, because really, how many incident reports for Blackwatch is that man really keeping? Especially considering her current status of employment.

Currently she sat in Blackwatch headquarters, in her lab. Biotic fluid nearly spilled onto her hand every now and then as she tried to fix her gear, cursing every time. She’d clean it up later, but causing unnecessary bodily harm to herself tonight wasn’t on her agenda. She wanted to fix her gear and go get some sleep before continuing her latest project for Reyes. At least, this was what she planned on doing.

“Moira?”

The geneticist cursed as her biotic grasp nearly fell to the ground. “Can’t you be a little more careful when someone is handling a biological substance?”

Angela didn’t look amused. “Fancy seeing you here. In Gabriel’s headquarters. When Overwatch fired you. You haven’t mentioned this.”

Moira sighed and stood, crossing the room to hang up her grasp on it’s designated hook, where the rest of her suit should be had she even gotten the chance to get out of it.

“Are you going to say anything? You have your own Blackwatch gear and everything? How long has this been going on? And what the hell is _that_?”

 _That_ , of course, being her biotic grasp. She was really just waiting for that bomb to drop. “Angela, wouldn’t you rather do this over a glass of whiskey? Or three?”

There was no humor in the blonde woman’s eyes. “How long? You’ve been doing what, research for Gabriel-“

“I’ve been doing research for Reyes, yes. I go on what you could consider clandestine operations with him and the rest of the covert ops division,” she answers cooly. She’s not going to be interrogated.

“Does Jack know about this? Never mind, of course he doesn’t.” Blue eyes are piercing and accusing, but Moira is unwavering.

“Of course he doesn’t.” She agrees, because he would easily fire her in a heartbeat if he did. He followed the U.N.’s wishes like a good dog.

Angela storms over to her biotic grasp. “And this?”

“My biotic grasp technology. Allowing me to easily patch up on any potential battle field, but not leave me defenseless.”

“This is nanobiotic technology, Moira.” An accusation.

“Many have utilized it, what’s your point?” The disinterested, vaguely bored look on the red haired woman’s face only agitated the other.

Angela threw her arms up in frustration. “ _Gott verdammt_ , Moira! Stop being flippant!”

“What other type of answer do you want, Angela? You’re going to go tattle to Morrison like a good girl anyway. You don’t need answers for that. Get to it, then.”

“You really think I’d do that to you?”

Moira’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What?”

“I’m not telling Jack, verdammt. I just want answers.”

"I gave you them, pet. Afraid that’s all I can give, unless you’d like me to start making things up.”

“Why are you so cold and distant all of a sudden? Don’t you trust me?”

Moira barked out a laugh. “Oh, dear. It isn’t about trust. It’s about practicality. And this isn’t practical.”

Angela frowned, hurt. “Why are you always like this?”

Here we go. “Like what, Angela? What do you want from me?”

The blonde woman’s lips formed a thin line. “Nothing.”

*****

Angela didn’t tell Commander Morrison about Moira working for Blackwatch. This surprised both parties, but neither commented. They hadn’t spoken or slept together in months, and Angela was confused. Moira.. they had something, didn’t they? There was more there. She couldn’t have been imagining it.

She was headed to Blackwatch’s headquarters to talk to Moira; hopefully not start an argument, find some answers. She greets Gabriel cordially enough, not in the mood to talk. He understands that, “Dr. O’Deorain and I have some unfinished business” means she needs to get down to the lab. When paging her doesn’t work, he shrugs and says she probably forgot to turn it on or fell asleep at her desk. According to him, she practically lived in her lab.

She was walking at a reasonable pace when she started her trek to what she had begun to refer to as “the cave”, when she heard it. Screaming. Gut-wrenching, horrible screaming. _Moira’s_ screaming.

She broke into a sprint, using the card Gabriel gave her to open the door and burst into the room, her heart pounding. Moira was sat in a lab chair, some type of administering device hooked up to her arm. Her fingers were clutched into the chair arm rests and she was pale and sweaty, likely on the verge of passing out. And her arm... Blue eyes trailed to her right arm, which was now scarred and purple-ish in hue. She felt like she may be sick. Angela rushed to kneel next to the lab chair.

“Moira, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

Gritting her teeth and forcing her eyes open, Moira looked at Angela, kneeled next to the chair with so much concern in her eyes. Instead of answering, she looked at her right arm and tried to flex her fingers and growled in pain. “I’m fine.”

“Fine? Moira, _mein gott_ .. you scared me so terribly. What did you _do_?”

With less strength than she actually had, Moira sat up and detached the device from her right arm. Determining it useless for the moment, she ignored it.

“We must all-“

“‘We must all make sacrifices in the name of science’ but not like this, Moira! Christ, never like this. What have you done to yourself...” the blonde woman’s words trailed into a murmur as she reached out to touch Moira’s now scarred and twitching right arm. The geneticist ripped her arm away, regardless of how much pain it caused and the wince that followed.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I.. I won’t.”

“Was there something you needed, Dr. Ziegler? I’m a bit.. preoccupied.” She bit out a breathy, ironic laugh at the end of her sentence.

“You know you can call me Angela. What is up with you, Moira-“

“No, _Angela_ ,” the other woman sneered, and Angela would’ve preferred she used Dr. Ziegler in that moment with the contempt her name had been said. “What is your problem? Where do you get off, thinking you can- you can just-“

“Can just what, Moira? Care?”

Moira barked out a laugh, looking to the side. “Care was never apart of our equation, and if you believe it was then you’re even more of a fool than previously predicted.”

Angela was stunned into silence by the cold response. “Moira, please..” her voice was soft, and she looked down, not sure what to say. “I know you feel what I do.”

The red head smiled bitterly. “People like me and you don’t feel, Angela. What was it you said to me when this started? ‘When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to live without me?’”

Angela swallowed. “Yes, well... now, I can’t live without you. Don’t make me. We can talk about... this-“ gesturing to Moira, her hand, everything in between.

“Can we? What do you see working from this, Angela?”

The shorter woman startled the already-winded woman by slamming her into a hug, holding on tight to her middle and breathing in the familiar scent. “Please, Moira,” her voice was muffled by the shirt, but it was clear it was full of tears. “I love you. I know I do. And I know you care about me too. Please stop pushing me away.”

Moira, while unable to use her right arm, wrapped her left arm around Angela and rested her forehead on the top of Angela’s. She held the shaking form that cried into her front as best as she could, her chest aching from hurting them both.

“You have to leave, Angela.” The words came from her mouth, didn’t they? Moira felt like she was in a fog.

Angela shook her head, not letting go of the other woman. “No. We’re either talking about it or I’m staying right here.”

Moira sighed and drew back as best as possible to look at the blondes face. Seas of blue, red-rimmed eyes and swollen, puffy cheeks greeted her. “I don’t love you.”

Angela choked on a sob. “But-”

“I don’t, Angela. I need you to leave now, please.” Unbidden, a tear began to make its way out of her right eye, something she caught onto immediately.

“You’re crying! Doesn’t that mean something?” Her voice was hoarse but no less passionate.

The other woman sighed, feeling fatigue begin to set in- reminding her of the nights she has not spent sleeping, and the throbbing in her arm reminding her that she needs to stabilize it soon.

“I can’t keep going in circles. I have something to do right now, so I need you to go-”

Angela’s lips crashed into hers and she made a noise of surprise before losing herself briefly and pouring every apology she could into it. She kissed the other woman hard, however gently, and tried to convey with it how sorry she was for all this heartache she’s causing for the both of them.

Angela buried her face back into Moira’s front. “Please don’t make me leave your side.”

Tired and worn down, Moira sighed, burying her working hand in blonde hair. “I won’t,” she whispered into soft strands of gold.

The shorter woman pulled back to search for any trace of a lie, but saw none. Her attention was caught by the purple hand that Moira didn’t seem to be using at all.

The geneticist followed her gaze to the hand she could barely feel at the present. “Oh, right. I should probably.. Uh, stabilize that.” She used her left hand to push some hair out of her face.

A steely, determined look appeared on the other doctor’s face. “I will help oversee it. I’m a scientist too, you know. But we will be talking about this.”

“Of course we will.”

 

 


End file.
